Unlucky 13: The New Doctor's Case
by the26thDoctor
Summary: Gallifrey Stands! But 1000 years in a pocket Universe has led to some bad blood between the Doctor and his fellow Time Lords. Follow the adventures of a new, unlucky 13th Doctor and his plucky American companion Desmond.
1. Gallifrey Stands

Unlucky 13: The Next Doctor's Case

1:1 Gallifrey Stands

The Doctor stared intensely at his read out. There- simultaneously- was the empty, bare, cold space where Gallifrey once stood, and the bright, vibrant, beautiful visage of his home planet. Two time streams lead together by 13 incarnations of the same Time Lord converging at the same place. Only the other 12 didn't know he was there.

It had taken him nearly 200 years to complete the calculation, but he figured out what had needed to be done. A miniscule temporal collapse between the pocket universe and their own, milliseconds after the time lock in his own time stream. Simple. Clever. Brilliant. Fantastic. Finally, the Doctor would have his home planet back. Gallifrey- with its lakes of singing fish and seas of red grass- would be saved.

Of course there was more to it than that. The Daleks. Oh, how he had dealt with them. But you all know that story by now. The important thing is that there was no more threat of a Time War between the Daleks and the Time Lords. Things could go back to the way they should be. Just one simple little perfectly timed pressing of a button.

And the Moment came. The Doctor flipped the Helmic Regulator and smashed as hard as he could on the Senteptic Cross Regulator. He watched as the silent energy engulfed the other Type 40 TARDISes. His past selves had no idea what was about to happen. In a bright flash, Gallifrey disappeared and the imposing Dalek fleets wiped each other out in a hellfire. The Doctor pressed on the Carbonium Nitropolimate plated Criptikalion Generator. The residual Void energy filled the rift between the Doctors TARDISes and radiated outwards. Just quick enough, for in the proceeding seconds each of the past TARDISes blinked back into their own timelines.

The Doctor briefly paused as he thought about all the pain and torment his past selves had just caused themselves without doing anything really wrong. He had to remind himself that when he regenerated he owed it to himself to allow his Warrior incarnation to join his others in his time stream. The War Doctor. What a great man. He had been a good man before that, but the War Doctor was Doctor above them all.

He blinked himself back into the present. The residual Void energy reached Gallifrey's coordinates. Slowly, the red hue of the great planet blinked…once…twice… and finally roared back into existence. Without delay, from its atmosphere burst what must have been hundreds of Type 103 Battle TARDISes. Surely to welcome him back into the fold. Perhaps some old friends…no doubt seeing her face would add unending joy.

Tears poured from the Doctor's old, weary eyes. A shame Ariel couldn't be here to witness this. She was a brave young lass, but fragile. Despite the many times she had helped him, this sight would have been too much for her primitive brain. The joy of seeing his old home would have been enjoyed, for now, in solitude. But it was there! Eleven hundred years without her. Six hundred thinking she had been destroyed along with his family, friends, the children, strangers he didn't even know. In total honesty, the next three hundred had been spent trying to ensure he wouldn't die- which to be fair happened purely by good fortune. But the ends justified his means- to bring back Gallifrey. And the final two hundred, agonizing, drawn out years, putting all the final pieces together, working out the equations, doing the science. Fighting off more than a few Daleks, Cybermen, Abzorboloffs, Weeping Angels. Losing Clara. Gaining Ariel. Losing Ariel. All of this pain was made worth it. He could see silver forests, snow capped mountains…he swore he could see Lungbarrow, his old home.

It was all too over whelming. So long looking. So long in pain. Longer in pain without Gallifrey than with it. He collapsed against the center console. Tears of joy showered from his eyes. He had cried many good cry in his long life, his two thousand years. Losing Rose, sweet Rose. Having to leave poor Donna. Saying good-bye to the Ponds. Losing River without even knowing who she really was to him. Watching Clara….go. Having to explain to Ariel why he couldn't take her with him. All had forced a river of tears from his old eyes. None could compare to the onslaught coming out of him now. But this was different. Yes there was joy, but there was hurt. Remembrance of the pain that got him here.

It was odd, cause at the moment the humming and whizzing of TARDIS grew quieter. As if she knew he needed a few moments to collect himself. Suddenly the cool steel became a warm, welcoming touch to his aged, frail skin.

It was short lived. The phone rang, and he had an idea of who it must've been.

"Doctor."

"Sorry, wrong number." The Doctor joked.

"Doctor this is Commander Padrock of Chancellery Guard."

"Oh, a Commander? I thought an action like this would at least warrant a visit from The Castellan, or a Lord Cardinal!" The Doctor proclaimed with playful indignation.

"Doctor, your presence is required at the High Council, immediately."

"Oh, you Time Lordy's you. Haven't lost an ounce of charm. You are, oddly enough, the most beautiful voice I've heard in an overwhelmingly long time, Commander."

"We are sending you the coordinates now, Doctor."

The call dropped unceremoniously and coordinates blipped onto the Doctor's view screen. Nothing was thought of it from his point of view. The Chancellery Guard had always been tight walkers with no real sense of humor. He did feel bad though that he actually wanted the applause he knew he was going to get from the High Council. He wanted them to acknowledge how much he was needed. He needed them to bow to him. It was a terrible reason to want to see them again, but hey- they wanted to destroy all existence at one point, so…no harm no foul.

The Doctor punched in the coordinates and dropped the Transversal Transmiter into 4th gear. The sweet sounds of the parking brakes radiated about him as the TARDIS danced into the High Council Chambers. Looking in the mirror, he tidied up. Rolling down his sleeves and throwing his overcoat back on, he had to think momentarily before he decided against wearing a bowtie. He bent down and wiped a little residual dust off his Doc Martin's and checked his breath. You never know who could be there. He grabbed his lapels in confident victory then strode out onto the promenade facing the High Council.

The clicking of the Chancellery Guards guns pointing at him was deafening. Shouting came from all sides- militaristic commands from various Sergeants, Captains and Commanders; shout of indignation from the Council itself. His hearts pounded, eyes widened. Looking around, he knew something was dreadfully wrong. A daring Commander stepped out and shouted above the rest.

"Doctor, by order of the High Council of Gallifrey, I order you to surrender your sonic device, lay the key to your TARDIS on the floor in front of you and place you hands behind your head!"

"What is the meaning of this? Don't you know who I am?"

"Doctor, I will tell you again- by order of the High Council of Gallifrey, I order you to surrender your sonic device, lay the key to your TARDIS on the floor in front of you and place your hands behind your head!"

"Why should I do that? I rescued you! I saved Gallifrey! I defeated the Daleks in two different ways! I ENDED THE TIME WAR!"

"Doctor, I repeat- by…"

"By what? By the order of who? Who thought that arresting the man who saved Gallifrey was a nice thing to do."

"I did, Doctor." A deep, booming, commanding voice echoed from the High Chancellor's seat. "An 'saving' Gallifrey is a corruption of the term, Doctor."

The self righteous authority in his voice was unmistakable. A man who should be trusted yet was untrustable. A man who would use the entirety of the Universe for his own means.

"Rassilon," The Doctor's whispery voice hissed in his deep Scottish brogue "I would've thought you had been deposed."

"Deposed? No. Granted immutable power by the Military Council and the High Council…why yes."

It was obvious he had regenerated. He was younger, a square jaw supplementing his bass voice to give him complete command of the room.

"We know, Doctor, all of your evil deeds. You may have survived the Time War. But what you did outside of it is unforgiveable."

"What do you mean? I've done nothing but help the Universe survive without the Time Lords. For over a thousand years, I've been the sole guardian against Dalek, Cyberman, Sontaran…"

"Passionate words cannot hide your misdeeds Doctor. For we have been shown your true nature by a man whose loyalty is unfathomable."

Without missing a beat, the Master stepped in from the shadows.

"Yes, Doctor. How many times must you destroy all of the Daleks before you prove a point? And why were you so reluctant to tell us your real name back on Trenzalore?"

"You know my real name- Koschei!" The Doctor shouted.

"That isn't the point Doctor." Rassilon boomed.

"Yes. Any man unwilling to share his real name with his own race is a man I wouldn't be willing to trust."

"And a man who hasn't changed his hoodie in centuries is?" The Doctor retorted.

"Sorry, been busy helping to run the planet you so conveniently locked away so you could continue to wreak havoc on our Universe."

"Lords and Ladies of the High Council, this has been presented to you all wrong!" the Doctor shouted.

"Lest we forget, it was the Doctor's failure to destroy the Daleks that started the Time War in the first place!" The Master said, smiling, arms outstretched to the pleas of the High Council.

"I had no choice! They hadn't done anything wrong yet!"

"An evil not yet done is still an evil waiting to happen, yes?" The Master challenged.

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you- Master?"

"Watch how you speak to this man, this vaunted member of our society. Koschei, the Master, has helped keep Gallifrey from being run into the ground while we sat in that pocket Universe. He kept order, justice and decency amongst the Plebeians whilst you darted from Galaxy to Galaxy doing as you wished!"

"You don't understand! I didn't…"

"Enough! This man has disobeyed your orders, Commander. Deal with him!" Rassilon boomed.

Thinking quickly, the Doctor whipped his Sonic Screwdriver out of his pocket. Clicking it to setting 405, he twisted around on his heels, causing the earpieces in all of the soldiers' helmets to emit a high frequency pitch directly into their ears. He quickly ran towards his friend, his soldier, his home…the TARDIS. His old, beautiful, banged up girl. His refuge. He was safe in her. He could only run. His mind buzzed with what was happening. He didn't even register the lucky shot to his back at first. Simply, instinctively, he Soniced the doors closed. This was going to be a rough one. He had to think quickly. His mind could only think of one planet he knew well. He adjusted the Helmic regulator, set the Positronic thrusters to maximum output, reversed the polarity of the neutron flow and kicked the TARDIS into high gear. She knew what to do. Find someplace safe…out of the way. Somewhere he could regenerate with little to no incident. Someplace the Time Lords wouldn't think to look.

"All that I've done and it comes to this! Shunned by the people I've spent lifetimes trying to save!"

He looked as the glow drew out from his hands.

"Still. I feel no hatred. Anything worth having is worth fighting for. And home is worth fighting for. But still…"

The regeneration took hold of him. His chest thrust back as the glow shot out from his head quickly, but all too painfully. A coughing fit over took him and he expelled a bit of excess temporal energy.

Step one: Analyze. He looked around. The regeneration was more powerful than he had previously though. Nothing was one fire, thankfully, but things were shaking awfully violently. He stumbled across the control room to the nearest door- restroom number 7. Opening the door, he leapt to the mirror, took hold of the sink and looked slowly up at the mirror.

Amidst all the horrible things happening- being rejected and outlawed by his own people despite saving them, another regeneration and the possibility of a crash landing- he smiled. A big, awkward toothy grin as he realized that he was finally ginger. Violently, he convulsed. As he felt the old girl plummeting to the coordinates she had set, he expelled a large amount of energy, and then collapsed on the ground unconscious.


	2. The Falconing

Desmond Rose hated the nighttime. No…he hated the nighttime in L.A. He had lived here nearly his whole life yet he never got used to the disturbing silence, the mellow cacophony of the big city nights. Despite all he had seen, nothing gave him the shivers more than the dank streets on a wet city night.

Living as he had was advantageous in some ways, yes. But it was also full of glaring tactical discrepancies. He had no cell phone. No way of calling out in case something happened; lest you count his solemn prayers to a God he stopped believing in long ago. But he had his cause. That's why he had parked 6 blocks away- so he could avoid the two major intersections that had traffic cameras attached to them. He wasn't doing anything wrong, mind you. He just had his mission.

And right now his mission was feeling pretty stupid. Walking six blocks back to his car for some milk and organic eggs was not what his Drill Sergeant would have called a smooth move. Especially with the four or five neo-Nazi looking guys that seemed to be following him.

It wasn't that he was scared of death mind you. He had faced that many times. He just didn't want to be tortured like he knew these skinheads would do to him. He would prefer it if his death were to be quick and relatively painless.

He quickened his pace ever so slightly. Enough to satisfy his fight or flight instinct but not enough to make them think that he was as scared as he actually was. After about a block of this, they disappeared. Breathing a momentary sigh of relief, Desmond rounded the corner and saw his Ford Fiesta off 3 blocks away. But the elation of the illusion of safety was short lived. As he neared the end of the first of those three blocks, the four youths- there was four of them by the way, not five as he had overestimated- charged authoritatively from around the other corner.

"Alright guys, look, I don't want any trouble. I'm just trying to buy groceries" He said, remarkably calm.

"Yeah, ain't that what we're all trying to do. Put food in our bellies. But to the winner goes the spoils…along with whatever is in your wallet, boy." The larger of the four responded.

Desmond swallowed his pride on being called boy.

"Look, I don't want any trouble but I will fight you, if that's what you intend."

"Quit talkin' like a white man, boy. You know it ain't safe for you on this side of town at night."

"Right now it's not safe for you." Desmond replied, a sinister grin covering his face.

"There he is! Thanks for smilin' boy, we couldn't see you in the dark for a second." The leader chimed, trying to assert his dominance. He had no idea what Desmond was capable of.

"Listen here, I'm gonna give you all one chance to walk away uninjured from this." Desmond said coolly, placing the bag behind him.

"Don't make threats here, boy. Remember there was a time when you'd call us master."

"Right now, I won't call you anything but a bitch." Desmond shot back sharply

After a chorus of cat calls and concussive cooing, the leader responded "I don't think I heard you right, boy. What'd you say?" At this, all four of them brandished the crude weapons they had- a Bowie knife, a club, a bat and some brass knuckles.

"Well, what I said was that I would never call you master, but I would call you a bitch. But what I'll say now is that you should know better than to bring some knives to a gun fight."

Desmond reached in his coat pocket and quickly pulled out a snub-nosed .32. But then something strange happened. As he went to point it at them, lightning crackled on this cloudless night. More lightning than one could expect from a bad thunder storm. After a few tense seconds of the five of them looking around, they saw the strangest thing. Down the block about half a mile, a big blue box appeared out of nowhere, flying in the sky. Like one of those old police boxes you'd see in England back in the day…but flying. Not really flying, more like crashing. Literally crashing- into lampposts, parked cars, the sides of buildings…until finally it found its final resting place. Like a giant foot, feet from the four foes, it heaved into the air and smashed right down on all four of them, no doubt killing them instantaneously.

Desmond stood there in what can only be described as shock for a good minute, not having any clue what to make of this situation. Suddenly, the door on the front of this…box- popped open, and a tall, red-headed man fell through it, steaming, clutching the side of it. Desmond approached him cautiously and the…man…threw himself on Desmond as if in his death throws.

"What the f….who the hell are you?"

"I…I…need…" the man responded in what Desmond guessed was a low Londoner accent. "I…need…I need a place to rest."

Desmond looked at him incredulously.

"And…some…carrot juice?" With that, the Brit collapsed in Desmond's hands. Desmond looked at the blue police box and the wayward ginger who emerged from. The only thing he could muster to say was…"What!"

Chapter 2

The Doctor…at least he thought…awoke to find himself in the passenger seat of an early 21st century gas turbine vehicle. Silently he glanced down at his hands. He was definitely a bit older looking.

"My veins…are huge!" He said in a surprised low voice. "Wow, I like this voice!" his toothy smile settling to one side.

"Dude, are you like…drunk…or stone…or something?" Desmond asked.

"No, no, no…I am the Doctor. Wait….no…no, no, no, yes….yes, I am the Doctor." He said, moving his arms around to get a feel for the rest of his body. "A really lanky Doctor." He clapped his hands "but I'm ginger! Finally I'm ginger! Do you know how long I've wanted to be ginger? No obviously you don't you haven't met me…hadn't met me until moments ago. Sorry, still getting used to this jaw…though I've had worse." He said, feeling his rather stout jaw line. "I'm called the Doctor."

"The Doctor? As in the definitive issue? As in the one, the only, will never be another?" Desmond responded skeptically.

"It's like you know me already! And you are?"

Desmond laughed lightly. "I'm…uh…I'm Desmond Rose."

Rose. Susan. Rose. The Doctor's head stirred, his body convulsed and he blew out the yellow-orange residuals of his regeneration again.

"That's…uh…that's some mighty gas you got there Doc."

"It's not gas, its temporal energy, a residual side effect of regeneration." The Doctor explained as he recovered.

"Right, so it's, like, alien gas." Desmond prodded cheekily.

"Yeah, if that's how you wanna think on it, then yeah."

"You always do that?"

"No, only when a regeneration's going particularly badly."

"When a what's doing what?"

"It's not really important. Listen, I need you to take me somewhere safe…"

"No place safer than my house."

"No, no, no. Somewhere safe where I can't be found."

"Like I said, no place safer than my house."

"No I mean like really can't be found."

"Like I said, Doc."

"Do you have a cell phone?" The Doctor asked, starting to prove a point. "Wait, what year is it?"

Desmond laughed as he responded "2017, man. What other year could it be?"

"Don't tempt me. Do you have a cell phone?"

"Nope."

"Landline?"

"Nope."

"Computer? Tablet?"

"Nope and nope."

"Gas lines, electric lines, water lines, bills sent to your house?"

"Wood stove, solar panels, rainwater and their sent to my Aunt's house in Beverly Hills."

"What are you on the run…like…me?" The Doctor was getting a bit out of breath.

Laughing Desmond replied. "No, Doctor."

"Wait. Your one of them? Who sent you? The Master? Rasillon? Where are you taking me?"

"What? No! Doc, listen- I'm Desmond Rose, your little shoe box landed and saved my…"

Desmond looked over and saw that the Doctor was out cold, some newly expelled timey stuff floating out the window.

"Wow, was my company that boring to you." He joked rhetorically.

Chapter 3

Desmond was sitting at his kitchen table, banging away at his type writer. It was now 7 in the morning…two days after this Doctor fellow had saved his bacon and given him extra fat to carry around. He was writing all this in his diary, making intricate notes of it all. This had the beginnings of a great book. Or, like a mediocre dime store novel- but it could make him some money. More than his other work. Or the one he was thinking of writing.

The sun rose blessedly over the San Fernando Valley, shining its countenance on all in its path. All in all, a beautiful Los Angeles morning. His eggs and bacon finished, the greasy plate sat next to the type writer- his .45 on the other side. This was an old school typewriter, the kind where you had to literally punch the key to write. As if to make sure what you were writing was deliberate and not some typo or grammatical error lest the energy you took to type that letter, word, sentence or paragraph be wasted. Desmond had become so proficient at it that he clicked away at his old laptop pace- 75 words per minute. He was typing so loudly it surprised even him when he heard the china crashing, the picture frames breaking and the loud grunt coming from down the hall.

"Ahhhh….shut up! What in the seven blessed systems are you doing!"

"Writing."

"On a type writer? In 2014?"

"2017 Doc, and yeah. It's how I roll."

"Okay…what is this?" The Doctor said, holding up the glass of orange liquid.

"Carrot juice." Desmond muttered. The Doctor actually couldn't hear him and motioned as such. "Carrot juice." Same song second verse. "Carrot juice!"

"Oh. Why on Earth would you give me carrot juice?"

"It's what you asked for when you fell outta your little box."

"And you just happened to have some?"

"No I drove back to the store and got some."

"With me asleep in the passenger seat?"

"Nope. Left you on the sidewalk. Wasn't till I came back that I decided to be your wet nurse till you got better."

"And it's just carrot juice?"

"Yes, Doctor. Pure, organic carrot juice."

"It's delicious. Used to hate it, now I love it. Funny how you change with these things. Once hated pears. Once used to be able to save me own skin with a stick of celery. Did I really just say 'me own skin'?"

"Yeah. Isn't that how you talk where you're from?"

"To say the least, no." The Doctor took a swig of his beloved juice and spied the gun. "Is that what your gonna use to kill me?"

"What?"

"The gun…the big…shooty gun."

"Oh no."

"Well I don't like guns. Get rid of it, please."

"I love guns, and no. It keeps me motivated when I write."

"Motivated when you write?"

"Yeah! Paul Shrader wrote 'Taxi Driver' in five days with a revolver next to his type writer."

"That movie was so inaccurate."

"That movie was a work of fiction."

"Right. Of course it was." The Doctor mumbled mockingly. He looked around the house musingly while sipping his carrot juice, trying to get a feel for the character he was holed up with for now. He spotted the lines running out to solar panels in the front yard that were providing the house with a little reading light. The wood stove in the middle of the room had recently died down. Rosewood, if the Doctor's new nose was working correctly. If not then it was cedar. No definitely cedar. "You really are completely disconnected, aren't you?"

"Totally off the grid, Doc."

"Why would you do that?"

"Well, I'm…uh….I'm a writer. And this is my little experiment. I'm living off the grid for a year and writing about my experiences."

"Oh, and how long have you been at it?"

"3 weeks."

"Wow, expert you are."

The two sat there in silence. The animosity, the tension was thick. Desmond finished what he was typing, took a drink of his coffee and turned to the Doctor.

"So. You're an alien."

"Yes, how did you know?"

"You were burping time gas, Doc. Humans don't do that."

"Right. Sorry."

"You were worried about someone finding you. Area 51? NSA? DOD?"

"Worse than all three combined over a hundred thousand years."

"Right. So, tell me. Who's after you?"

"My own people."

"You mentioned you were on the run."

The Doctor knew what was happening. An interview. He didn't want it. "Look, I pissed off a lot of people by doing the right thing and now everybody in all of time and space is after me. From the beginning of time straight to the Utopia."

"Utopia, is that what the afterlife is called?"

"You wish." The Doctor, with a start, jumped to his feet.

"My TARDIS! What did you do with my TARDIS? Where is it?"

"Your what?"

"My…ship."

"You mean that little blew box you crash landed?"

"Well…yeah."

"Well, thanks to no small effort on my part, I towed it to a back alleyway yesterday and covered it with a tarp. Don't worry, I don't think anyone's gonna find it."

"No, no, no, no, no, no! You have to take me to it now! They can find it, and if they find it they can find me and if they find me….I'll be wearing Spongebob jammies. Spongebob, Desmond? Really, how old are you?"

"Hey, it's a smartly written show!"

The Doctor started a scowl. "Oh you…." This quickly diluted into a smile "Humans! Just when I had lost all hope, you go and do something like this. A children's show! And you're what, 32? And you're still wearing the jammies of it! Marvelous. Hey, I like that. Marvelous. Think I'll keep that. Not these jammies, though. Cute as they are, not very befitting of a 2000 year old fugitive. What did you do with my clothes?"

"Burned them."

"Why, in the love of all things wibbly wobbley would you do that for?"

"They were all burned and tattered. Your ass was hanging out."

"What's it look like?"

"What?"

"My bum?"

Desmond gawked at the Doctor momentarily then said "I didn't really look" trying to hold back the sarcastic disgust.

"I just made this quite awkward didn't I?"

"Doc, since you planted that box, it hasn't stopped being awkward."

Chapter 4

"Ro. Mo fro ro kro tro ro io." Rembo chanted.

"Well who is it?" Said the elderly lady.

"Mo ao so to eo ro."

"Oh. Do we have precedence for his visit?"

"Of course you do." The Master stated as he walked nonchalantly into the state room.

"You know this is my private quarters."

"Yes I know. Personally, I find it quite dreadful. Purple and black never go well together. And it's got this whole…wannabe steampunk-ness to it. But…a matter of this importance needs immediate attention." The master was still reltively young looking for having aged a thousand years since their last encounter. And remarkably, he was still wearing the same black hoodie.

"Master. You haven't changed much."

"Correction, I haven't changed at all. Literally as you can see."

"We are…pleased that Gallifrey is back. We're awaiting the Doctor's next intervention."

"Oh, and why is that?" The Master asked, helping himself to some blue ale on her drink car.

"We're going to give him a medal. He defeated the Daleks, subdued the Cyberman…taught some manners to Raxicoricofallapratorians. All so that he could bring your home world back."

"Ah, seems to be a great man then doesn't he?"

"One would think a fellow Time Lord would agree to that after recent events."

"Recency is relative, Madame Architect."

A tense moment passed as the Master sipped his drink with a smile.

"What do you want?" The Shadow Architect asked straightforwardly.

"The Shadow Proclamation." He shot back curtly.

"You can't _have_ the Shadow Proclamation. It is an entity separate from all forms of control. It exists to…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah. I want it. And I'm gonna have it." The Master rounded the room and launched himself onto the comfy chair situated to the Architects right.

"I should have known. I thought a millennia locked in a pocket Universe would change you." She waved her fingers. A small patrol of Judoon charged into the room and pointed their weapons at the Master.

"Like I said, Madame Architect, I literally haven't changed at all." He replied, still carelessly drinking his ale.

"So you want the Shadow Proclamation all to yourself then, is that it?"

"No, no. I would get bored in two seconds with all the rules, and smelly Judoon waltzing around here. I'd just as soon be back in my TARDIS causing havoc, cause let's face it: that's what I do best. No this type of establishment is best suited for…a cop…or a scientist. Someone methodical, someone who has a singular drive for what he- or she- wants. I'm too- chaotic. No, no. I'm not taking the Proclamation for myself. I'm taking it for her."

A well placed shot split between two Judoon soldiers and smacked the Architect square on the forehead, killing her in a millisecond.

"That was…anti-climatic." The seductive females voice rang out as the shocked platoon turned to see what they were facing. A large force of Ogrons, cavemen like in appearance, 3 for every Judoon stormed into the state room. Her heels could be heard clicking down the floor as she walked…no, more like stalked into the room.

"Judoon soldiers. Your old leader is dead. I am replacing her." She was, to put it simply, sexy. Long full legs, sculpted curves, full lips and flowing red hair. Her emerald eyes pierced anywhere she looked and her stance was one of confidence and sex.

The Master bounced and clapped in amusement. He always hated the Judoon. So obstinate. So thick. So smelly. And here they were caught completely and utterly off guard. And by the former competition no less. A thousand years had taught him a lot about this woman, but her flair for the dramatic was never to be under-estimated.

"Don't bother calling in your reinforcements. I have a million Ogrons to your 200,000 stupid Judoon. If you wish to live, submit yourself to me."

"Wo Ao Yo" the Judoon Sergeant asked.

"I am the Rani."

Chapter 5

"Ah this is no good!" The Doctor yelled, banging his Sonic Screwdriver against the dash. "Why is it every time I crash, this thing has to go out." He held it out the window trying desperately to get a reading. But it was no use. One of the prongs was missing. The subwave amplifier was phasing.

"What's wrong with it?" Desmond asked.

"To put it bluntly…it's broken. Completely useless. Always when I need it most."

"What's it do."

"Yes."

Desmond looked questioningly at the Doctor.

"Yes. You asked what it does, and the answer is yes. It's a sonic screwdriver and if you need it to do something, the answer is yes. Unless it's a deadbolt lock. Then the answer is most certainly no." The Doctor sighed and looked at his clothing choices. Desmond's closet left a lot to be desired, so the Doctor chose functionality over fashion. He hated doing that. But it was perfect for the kind of life he had to lead now. Still nice-looking, but nothing bawdy. A autumn brown suit jacket; green and yellow pattern stripes on his white shirt, blue jeans and a rather nice pair of dress boots he was surprised to have found in Desmond's closet. Just what he needed to hide in plain sight.

Desmond drove for several blocks, doing his best not to attract attention. The Doctor gazed silently at the passing shop windows.

"I told you not to bring your guns."

"You told me you were a fugitive. Fugitives get looked for. Since I've met you, Doc, you've spoken in hiaku's, riddles and half-truths. But I do know one thing, the people coming after you don't plan to take you down by tickling you to death."

"I have everything I need. I have my ship. I have my wits, my cleverness. And I have this!" The Doctor brandished his screwdriver.

"Oh really, now."

"Yes. Entire galaxies tremble at the thought of my Sonic Screwdriver. Entire population's histories have been made by this little thing. I ended the greatest war in the history of the universe with this one little piece of hardware."

"Oh. So, it's pretty dangerous, huh."

"Yes, but not deadly."

"Right. And like you said, it can do pretty much everything."

"Anything I might ever need it or not need it to do."

"Okay, then. My radiator's been leaking for a week or so now. Fix it for me will you." Desmond had a smug smile smeared on his face.

The Doctor went to fix it. At the attempt, the sonic sparked and started to smoke. The Doctor exclaimed in pain, the stared at Desmond.

"My point is, Doc- galaxies may have trembled at you before. But the way you're making it sound…well it seems like you may need a little more than a broken Stellar Screwdriver."

"Sonic! Scredriver."

"Right, whatever. But the point is…" Before Desmond could finish his sentence the sound of police sirens behind him interrupted.

"Pull over." The Doctor said.

"No, it's city cops. I may have just bashed your little device here, but between you, me and what about Bob I think we can take them. Besides we're, like, 4 blocks from your little ship thingy."

"Desmond, you are wise beyond your years, but you're still so stupid! If they find out where my TARDIS is, all hell will break out!"

After a moment of humble moment of silence, Desmond complied with the Doctor. Immediately, the Doctor popped out of the passenger seat.

"Why in the world would you pull me over!" He whispered at the approaching officer, mocking an American accent. "Do you have any idea how close you are!"

"Sir, please step back inside your vehicle and place your hands on the dash." The officer said, reaching for his firearm.

"Right, I get it, you're a big ole police officer now, but you're really blowing this for me!"

"Sir, I'll ask you one more time…"

"No you won't!"

"Sir?"

"See, I'm one of you!"

"Sir?"

"My name is Jackson Lake. I'm an undercover!" The Doctor said feigning exasperation.

"I don't understand sir."

"Look, I'm undercover with the Unified…Intelligence…Task Force. Top secret. UNIT for short. We've been investigating this scum bag for the better half of 6 months. Now we have a chance to pop this terrorist and your gonna muck it up cause you wanna fulfill your quota?"

The officer looked unsettled, uneasy. "I'm gonna need to see some identification, sir."

The Doctor smiled. Not a smile of victory, but of confidence. Suavely he pulled out his psychic paper. "See there. Detective Jackson Lake. LAPD-UNIT Joint department."

The cop stuttered in his breath. The other officer stepped out of the cop car as well, breathing heavily. The first officer, the higher ranking of the two, looked knowingly at the Doctor.

"That's a blank piece of paper. That's psychic paper."

Dropping his American accent, the Doctor, now worriless, started talking.

"Psychic paper! How in the world would you know that! It won't be invented for another 476 ye…what year is it? Yes 476 years on Earth. The only answer is that you, like me, are in fact not officers of law attached to the Los Angeles Police Department but are in fact…" he paused as he looked deeply into the first officers eyes "…vehicles of the Interstellar Justice Department." He looked at their name tags. "Chakoteya…and Teselecta Jr. I'm assuming that means Teselecta number two?" The Cop nodded his head. "I knew your father."

"Time Lord known as the Doctor, you have been found guilty of egregious war crimes against the Time Lords, Daleks, Cybermen…"

Desmond hopped out of his car. "Is there a problem here officer?" The irony is, of course, as he said this he was holding a small sub-machine gun in his hands. The Doctor looked at him "Desmond, you have no idea."

Teselecta Jr continued "…humans, Krillitane, Ood and Silurians. Pursuant to sector 17.9 Section A-12 of the Defense Codes, you are scheduled for…"

"What is this- an execution?" Desmond popped in.

"No, Desmond. These two men here are actually space-time ships controlled by tiny little shrunken men and women. They've colluded with those who are out to get me and now they want to execute me."

Desmond cocked his gun. "I understood literally nothing of what you said, Doc, but their cops and that pisses me off enough."

Tires screeched as 3 state police patrollers pulled onto the side walk.

"Drop your weapon!" "Freeze!" Rang a chorus of commands from the statey's.

The Doctor examined them fearlessly. Desmond tried his best to imitate a Mexican stand-off, his sub-machine gun pointed at the newly arrived statey's while he brandished the .45 he had in the back of pants at the weird human-space-time-robot-shrinky thingy's. "Be cool, Desmond. I'm sure, as much as you hate police, you don't want to die today." He walked cooly up to the black-clad patrol officers.

"Sir, get down on your knees, place your hands above your head and lie prone…"

"Oh shut up! Did you really think I'd believe your clever little disguises?" He said, his walk a bit more confident and threatening now. "Just needed a closer look at you to know exactly what I was dealing with. But I mean you stink! At everything! Your strategies terrible. First off you had no idea that the Justice Department would be. Secondly, any real officer would know that holding a gun like this would take your bloody thumb off!" He said, pulling one of the officers thumbs down from behind the slide. "Thirdly! You just reek of dirt. Iron. Earth. So! You stink at strategy, you stink at weapons, you stink in general, you're stupid and you're arrogant. That can only mean one thing! You are Zygons!"

The statey's slowly dropped their guns, smiles wide. The lead officer spoke up "Fine, Doctor, you got us." With that, all six of them transformed into their ghastly, sucker selves.

"Jesus!" Desmond exclaimed. "What the hell are those things!"

The Doctor turned cooley to Desmond. "Their Zygons, Desi. Their aliens. They can shape shift. Now act like you've got a pair and BE COOL!"

"And you're right about a few things, Doctor. First off- that's Zondik. He's new. That's why he was holding the gun wrong. Secondly, yes. We do smell like dirt. It's a glorious smell we revel in when we get the chance, but it does give us away. But you were dead wrong about one thing."

"Oh and what's that?" The Doctor replied smugly.

"We were counting on the Justice Department to be here."

"They were!" Chakoteya chimed in.

"It was integral to the plan."

"Please. I've defeated Zygons numerous times and I've been inside a Justice Department ship. You don't scare me."

"Right, Doctor. But when you knew my dad, and when you defeated the Zygons, you had two things you don't have now. Your screwdriver…and your TARDIS."

"You're right, Junior. But neither do you."

"Don't need em."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that!" Desmond said, having dived back into his car and now brandishing to AR-15's.

"Seriously, Desmond, I think you have issues." The Doctor exclaimed.

The Justice Department cops both laughed. "Besides the fact that our ship will barely register your little bullets, you don't have enough for all of us."

"Um, math lesson. Two big guns, 30 rounds a piece plus two in the chambers. 8 of you guys. I literally have 4 times the amount of firepower to take you out. And as for your little weird human ship thingy, I'm sure the Doctor will figure something out."

"Though appreciated, Desi, that's an awful lot of trust in me in a very short period of time. Seriously, you need help!" The Doctor remarked.

"And besides that, you did your math wrong…Desi." Junior said.

"What do you mean?" Desi asked.

"Well, you're right. There are two of us JD ships. And six smelly Zygons. And that added together does indeed equal eight." The sound of heavy footsteps grew closer and closer. The smell expanded at an even more exponential rate. "But you forgot twenty Judoon." A moment after they were announced they were in sight.

"God damn those are some ugly aliens!" Desi said.

"Not to mention…"as the jumped down from the roof tops "A hundred Ogrons!"

"Oh Ogrons! Haven't seen them in a while!" The Doctor said with a smile.

"Yeah. Hired hands go a long way. But don't forget these guys!" With that a portal opened in the street and a platoon of Sontaran's ran through.

"And, let me guess, those shop window dummies…"

"Yup."

The Auton's made their slow, awkward walk up the street as the Doctor assessed the situation.

"Ok. I'll admit, my math may have been off. But BRING IT ON!" Desi shouted. The Doctor twisted around. It was hopeless. Looking up, the giant eye in the sky in the middle of the spaceship was ominous. Atraxi. They were literally surrounded on all sides.

The Doctor smiled his toothy smile. This is when he thrived….


	3. Springing the Trap

The Doctor, it could be said, had a plan. Or something resembling a plan. Okay, to be honest, he had no plan at all. But he knew what he wanted to do. Get caught, find out who the brains behind his hunting was. So being surrounded by Department of Justice Vehicles, Ogrons, Judoon, Autons, Atraxi and Zygons was, surprisingly, right where he wanted to be.

The Doctor smiled casually as he walked around the slowly constricting circle.

"Doctor, please place your sonic device on the ground, place you hand behind your head and prepare to be apprehended." Junior ordered.

"You mean…this sonic device!" The Doctor said as he whipped his screwdriver out of his coat pocket. The cracking of the guns echoed down the streets as the awkward Autons finally arrived. "You see, the thing about this device- it's completely broken." A strong, but brief silence. By the way, where were the Silence? The Doctor thought for sure a force like the Silence would be here. Or the Angels. But regardless. "This little sonic screwdriver is junk! Believe me. Broke it on the way in, apparently. See I'm fresh into this body, and well…things tend to break when that happens. Pretty sure my TARDIS- wherever it is- is absolutely useless. Couldn't travel to the store for some Jammie Dodgers if it…really? Did I just? Anyways…point its…my sonic device….my TARDIS. Don't worry about them. Worry about me…because…"

Suddenly, without warning, Desmond chimed in "And me!" The events seemed to unfold in slow motion to the Doctor. Desmond had a tear gas canister already in mid-flight. It landed right in front of Junior and the Chakoteya and lit off with a blinding smoke. Desmond began firing both the AR-15's with an assuredness that scared the Doctor. 4 quick shots to the Autons. Nothing. Desmond quickly readjusted his strategy. One gun made Swiss cheese out of the police cruiser Junior and the Chakotaya came from, the other picked off a few Zygons.

"Run, Doc!" He yelled.

Within seconds the cruiser lit-up in a fireball, sending the DOJ ships and Autons flying. The Ogrons and Judoon took up positions and began firing.

"Ro mo fro ko to lo mo!" The Judoon captain shouted.

"Take out the human!" An Ogron shouted. The Zygons were scrambling. The Doctor had a choice. Desmond had enacted violence…but only so the Doctor could get away. Yes it was obvious he had a violence to him, but he had also risked his life while barely knowing the Doctor… a few times. The Doctor banged his sonic screwdriver on the side of Desmond's car, hoping for one last burst of usefulness from it. He had to take out the Atraxi warship, or at least confuse it. The Doctor leapt onto the roof of the car and pointed straight up, setting 844. It wasn't much, but it would confuse the Atraxi tracking and targeting protocols enough for them to make a getaway.

Desmond needed no guidance. He stopped firing long enough for the two of them to make their break. The Doctor hopped off the car, knocking over one of the Zygons in the process. The smoke was thick, but the two managed to find their way through it and they ran for the remaining distance, Desmond turning back occasionally to fire at their pursuers.

After not too long, they saw it. Still sitting there on the street corner, undisturbed, sat the faithful TARDIS. The Doctor reached into his pocket for the key; it wasn't there. He checked his other pockets, his hair, his mouth. Suddenly he realized the only place it could be. Throwing himself against the wall, he took off his left boot.

"Doc, what the hell are you doing!" Demsond shouted while unleashing a stream of bullets at some Ogrons.

"My key! To get in the TARDIS!" The Doctor shouted back angrily. Sure enough, the key was there, in his boots. Slipping it back on without tying it, they started the 30 foot or so run up to safety.

When the door to the TARDIS opened when they were mere feet from it, the Doctor knew immediately something was wrong. Smoke rose from the doors. He skidded in an attempt to stop, but landed flat on his rear. Desmond was more successful, at least for the moments before the shot hit him in his chest. Just a stun shot, nothing fatal. But he was out like a light bulb. Two Ogrons ran from the TARDIS and kicked his guns away, pointing their weapons at him.

The laugh. That same laugh he had heard in so many nightmares. Then, she emerged. Though she was different it was obvious she was exactly the same. Her face was much younger, her…features more pronounced.

"Really, Doctor?" She said, her voice a sultry rasp. "1000 years later and your no better at recognizing a trap? I swear for all your cleverness, you really are quite stupid sometimes."

"Rani! And just when I thought things couldn't get better." The Doctor replied sarcastically. "I see you've changed since last I saw you." The Ogron's stood them up, the Doctor and Desmond instinctively raised their hands.

"Yes! What do you think?" She asked, spinning around.

"Very nice. You're very attractive. I think."

"You think?" Desmond asked

"It's complicated." The Doctor replied

"Yes, I've changed twice since last we met. Could've been worse, though: my last body was a…man." She admitted.

"Ha! You were a man!" The Doctor joked.

"You know, Doc, I've tried to keep up with you this whole time but now not only am I extremely confused, I'm also decidedly disgusted." Desmond said.

"Oh, be more progressive will you? Is this the filth you're travelling with now?" The Rani quipped.

"Not travelling, with him. Just met him actually." The Doctor glared at Desmond. "Can't say I'm all that impressed." He iterated with emphasis on every word.

Not skipping a beat, Desmond retorted "Love you too, sweetheart."

"Well, in any case, you're travelling together now."

"What are you going to do with us?" The Doctor asked.

"Well, first a question. Have all your regenerations been as a man?"

"Yes."

"Really? 13 bodies, not once have you changed gender?"

"Yes, why?" The Doctor responded angrily.

"Well, as head of The Shadow Proclamation…"

"What!" The Doctor yelled.

"And- to be honest- just because I'm me: I hereby declare you an object of scientific interest. You are to be catalogued, dissected and studied." The evil grin was eating up her face.

"Rani, listen to me…"

"No you listen to me. All of our past troubles aside, do you know what it was like being trapped in that pocket hell for a millennium!"

"Rani, I didn't know you were on Gallifrey! And even if I had, I had no choice! You know the war…"

"Yes, yes. I've heard your argument. Lies. All of it. Now get moving."

The Ogron's jabbed the duo in the side with their weapons, prodding them in the direction of another back alley.

"Is she your ex?" Desmond asked, half jokingly.

"Something like that." The Doctor responded. Behind them the remaining Judoon, Zygons and Autons filed in. The commander of the Judoon waved at the Atraxi ship above, and in a moment it was gone. The little platoon walked quickly down the alley to the backdoor of a shop. "Let me guess, Rani. You killed the owner of this shop, dug it out and this is where your running both your experiments and the Shadow Proclamation from." The Doctor accused.

"No. No. Dear god, no Doctor, that's the old me. The new me has all the power in the Universe. And besides, this shop doesn't have a back door." The Rani replied as she disappeared inside.

Her TARDIS was huge. Not huge in the vein of it was bigger than the Doctor's. After all, all TARDIS' were infinitely larger on the inside. More like it inspired awe, sublimation, even envy from the likes of everyone, including the Doctor.

"Um…Doctor. There's no way this can fit inside that shop."

"That's because it's inside it, around it, beside it, above it, below it. It's a TARDIS." The Doctor said as if Desmond should know better.

"So it's…bigger on the inside?" Desmond asked.

The Doctor simply shot him an angry look.

"What, I don't know your little spacey wacey stuff. This is all new to me."

"That's not why I'm mad at you." The daggers in the Doctors eyes were met by the wall in Desmond's. The Doctor scoffed. "I see you've upgraded Rani."

"Please, compared with the relic your TARDIS is, anything is an upgrade. But yes. It is a TT type 106. Top of the line."

"I thought they only made 105's?" The Doctor asked.

"They did. Now they make 106's. Much better."

"What kind do you have?" Desmond asked the Doctor.

The Doctor curled his lip. "Type 40."

"Ha! Figures." Desmond exclaimed.

The Doctor, meanwhile had become distracted. Looking around the control room and other surfaces in the ship, he saw workers whose faces should have been friendly.

"How did you know I'd be here, Rani?"

"Easy. UNIT tracked your movement and reported it directly to me. Well…we needed some guidance from the Time Agency as well. But in the end, it was hardly any trouble at all." The Rani approached Desmond, a big hint of physical attraction in her walk. "Doctor, Doctor." She said clicking her tongue. "Where are you manners? You still have yet to introduce me to your friend here."

The Doctor was obviously biting his tongue. Desmond, briefly looking to the Doctor, took the initiative once he realized no guidance would come from him. "My name's Desmond. But you can call me…your demise." The last part he said nearly growling through his teeth.

The Rani stared blankly at him. "Okay, you're going to need to come up with better puns if you have a chance with me, Desmond." She replied.

"Rani, listen, whatever your planning- don't. Rassilon wants to end the Uni…ah!" The Doctor fell to the floor, his skin glowing.

"Doctor what is it?" Desmond asked.

"Oh, his regeneration's probably going bad again." This voice was unfamiliar to Desmond, but all too familiar with the Doctor. "Wouldn't be the first time." The Master popped in front of the Doctor and smiled. "Just like old times, isn't it?" The Master was now wearing a smart, sharp fitted suit. His age was starting to show more.

"Oh look. A thousand years and you've finally changed your clothes." The Doctor remarked before withdrawing again in pain.

"Doctor, if there's one thing about you I'll miss it's that wit." The Master responded. "Besides, could be worse. Remember what I used to wear? God…that was awful."

The Doctor, for his part, couldn't say much. His teeth were grit hard as the pain ripped through his new body.

"Look, we need to have him alive for the tests to work. Take him to my Zero Room for now. As for the attractive human, lock him in cell A-2."

"Why, what's in A-1?" The Master asked as the Doctor passed out.

"My luggage. Some of it anyways. I never knew how bad my taste in clothes were till I was man. Anyways, those are my orders. I'm setting a course for the Shadow Proclamation. We'll be there shortly."

Desmond was thrown hard by the Judoon guard into his cell.

"Yo to ro mo ho jo ko."

"I don't know what you're saying!" Desmond yelled back. The Judoon and him just stared at each other for a few seconds before the door slammed and Desmond was left there. He walked around the room quickly, looking for any weakness. But it was no use. This room was obviously designed with all discrepancies in mind.

He threw himself against one of the walls and sunk; his head in his hands.

"Great. Another enemy prison. Are they my enemy? Of course they are, Desi. Why? I've got no stake in this. Yeah. Yeah I do. I don't know this guy. But I do know a few things about him. And if there's one thing I know about him, it's this- he's a good man. He's a good man and these are bad people. I just wish I didn't have to go through this again."

The same Judoon guard approached the cell door a while later.

"Yow o bo eo so."

"Oh for the love of God- I don't understand you!" Desmond screamed as he rose to his feet and moved aggressively towards the door. Suddenly a strange figure appeared from out of nowhere. Her head was cloaked and she spoke in a whisper, but she moved without caution through the rooms as if almost welcome.

"Yes, and he can't understand you either, which means he can't understand me." She said. Desmond started to speak but she cut him off. "Look, there's no time and you mustn't tell the Doctor about this yet. He says in five minutes you will be taken to be executed. But it will only be him coming to get you. You will have twenty seconds before any guards are alerted. They store some weapons in a room down the far hallway two doors on the right. It is imperative that you get the Doctor and it is imperative that he knows nothing of our exchange. Good luck, Desmond." With that, she walked quickly out of the room. Desmond looked at the guard and nodded his head.

The Doctor awoke. The smell of Roses filled his nostrils, overpowering his senses and causing his head to ache.

"Easy, now Doctor. We wouldn't want to interrupt the regeneration process." The Master exclaimed, leaping from the corner of the room he had been standing in.

"Master. You don't have to do this. Rassilon still wants to destroy the Universe, I just know it."

"Doctor, how many times have you tried to convince me not to do exactly what I'm doing? And how many times have I listened?"

"Alright then." The Doctor responded after a moment. He looked around, noting the fact that he was levitating. "So why are you working for the Rani?"

"Oh Doctor, you insult me. And she'd never hire me. I'm working with the Rani. Who do you think set all those traps for you back there? It's me, Doctor. I know you better than anybody."

"I see. Get me out of the way, no one can stop you from killing Rassilon and claiming the Universe for yourself."

"Am I soliloquizing? Or are you going to put words in my mouth and be rude?" The two stared tensely at each other for several seconds. "First off, I don't want to rule the Universe. Never really was my goal. Thought it was, for a while. But then I asked myself- why? And I realized that the only reason I want to rule the Universe is that if I did rule the Universe, that would mean you would already have been defeated by me. And then I thought….why? What will I do with the Universe? Most certainly get bored. Better to take little civilizations and destroy them, watch them get built up again as I destroy another. Take some time to try and set some traps for you. Keeps me on my toes! It's a challenge! Come on, how many times have I defied the laws of death just so I could come back and duke it out with you some more."

"So that's it, isn't it? You…you need me!" The Doctor exclaimed. "Like Batman and the Joker, Superman and Lex Luthor…Barddlekrang and Xentophon! A world without me is unthinkable to you!"

"And just imagine Doctor, a world without me is just as scary to you." The Master said.

"Please. I spent nearly 200 years thinking you were dead and I did just fine. The difference is, Master: I don't need you. Never have. Never will. I will never wish for pain on you put when your demise comes I will carry on just as happily as I did before it."

This enraged the Master. He kicked the Doctor's back, forcing his concentration and knocking him down. The rage had taken over. He picked the Doctor up, in his weakened state, and proceeded to pummel him. After a few strong hits to the face, the Master used his now honed hand to hand combat skills, grabbed the Doctor's hand with his, his other picking up the Doctor's pant leg and flung him end over end across the room. The Doctor, despite all this, consciously put up no resistance.

He wanted this to happen.

Desmond was waiting by the door when the Judoon soldier arrived. Sure enough, he was alone.

"I'm ready to face death again whenever you are, horny." He said with a straight forward face.

The door slid open and the Judoon soldier approached him through the narrow doorway to put on the cuffs. Desmond wasted no time. Knowing that this thing was obviously tougher and stronger than him, he elected to use his speed. He backed up a few steps, turned around then ran up the wall that was behind him. He flipped in the air, his legs simultaneously kicking the Judoon to disorient him and kicking the gun out of his hand. As soon as Desmond landed, he rolled right to the weapon, grabbed it and aimed it at his target, shooting him once in the chest and knocking him down.

"I told you I was ready to face death. I never said it was my death that needed to be faced." With that he shot the Judoon in the head. Desmond quickly ran down the far hall and hit the storage closet. "Dammit, I have no idea what any of this does!" He yelled in his mind. Externally he just let out a sigh. He grabbed what, to the best of his knowledge, looked useful. A few smaller hand guns, another large rifle and what appeared to be grenades now lined his pockets. He had no idea if ammo was needed for any of them and, as he didn't see any, he assumed there wasn't.

He quickly darted out of the door and was immediately surrounded by gunfire. Ducking behind a bulkhead, he inspected his weapons.

"Right. I guess that was about 20 seconds. Okay…this looks like…the trigger…the pin…" He continued figuring it out for about 5 seconds before he just gave up and started firing. Luckily for him, firearms throughout the Universe work essentially in the same manner- point and shoot. And to his credit, Desmond was an expert marksman. Opposing him were 12-15 Judoon and Ogron's. Before long there were five. Desmond grabbed one of the grenade looking thingy's, pulled the pin and threw it. There was good news and bad news. The good news: yes it was a grenade. Bad news: it was only a flash grenade. But that was all he needed. He busted through the smoke firing at where he had last seen the enemy. And once again, his shots rang true.

After the smoke settled, 10 Judoon lay dead on the ground, 4 Ogron's, with one more crawling and heaving and rattling to wherever he thought he could get to before his time ran out. Desmond approached him and flipped him over, his rifle at the Ogron's head.

"Do you understand me?"

The Ogron replied "Yes."

"Good. Now where is he? Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about! Where's the Doctor?"

"The Zero Room."

"Yes, I heard that part." Desmond responded impatiently. "But if you don't tell me where this Zero Room is, I'll just do myself a favor and prolong your death a little bit."

The Master had the Doctor cornered, on the ground. He was hitting him hard- the hardest punches he had ever thrown. Still the Doctor put up no resistance.

"Fight back! Fight me! Come on!" The Master yelled, kicking him a few times in the ribs before giving up, exasperated, near tears.

"Would that please you, Master? One last fight with the Doctor before the Doctor dies?"

"You wouldn't."

"Oh yes I would. You did it."

"Yes but I came back! I knew I would. Who's gonna bring you back? Huh!? UNIT? They're on our side now! The Shadow Proclamation? The Time Agency? The Department of Justice? They work for us! Huh! Who?! The Ood! They don't trust you anymore! The Osirians? The Silurians? They all work for us! You have no allies Doctor! No one. No where! No place in the Universe is friendly to you now, don't you understand? The minute you brought Gallifrey back we sent out our agents all over space and time and spread the word: The Doctor is evil. And they all jumped on board. Every last one of them Doctor. Every species, every group, every person you thought was your friend has now turned against you. Did you know there are campaigns on Gallifrey every 3 years now? And you know what the major platform the Time Lords run on is? You! Your demise! Your terrorism! We've written plays where you're the bad guy. Songs about your evilness. Your debauchery and shame are engraved into the very heart of Gallifrey, Doctor!"

The Master withdrew from his frenzy for a moment. Straitening his suit and running his hands through his hair, he breathed deeply. "So go ahead, die. Die Doctor. Die. But know this. No one will be around to bring you back, not now, not ever." With that, the beating the Doctor experienced at the hand of the Master grew worse.

Desmond moved swiftly and silently down the Rani's TARDIS corridors. Every so often he encountered a little resistance, but they were easily dispatched. He had to admit, he impressed even himself. These were inter-galactic warriors and policemen and he was having relative ease dispatching them. But one question burnt his mind: who was that strange woman? Why did she help him? Was it a trap? Was it a figment of his imagination. Oh god, if it were a figment of his imagination it had gotten worse. He hadn't had one for a while. But in any case, he had a chance to save the Doctor. And save the Doctor he would. For he had spent far too long fighting for bad men. Whether not the Doctor liked him, Desmond would fight for him because he was a good man.

He rounded the last corner to the Zero Room, and that's when all hell broke loose. What must've been a battalion of Ogron soldiers littered with a few Judoon guards- probably near a hundred in all- faced him. He flipped over a nearby table littered with maps and used it for cover. But the barrage of gunfire fell like rain in hurricance. But he did not fear. It only drove him further. Over a hundred to one. The odds were definitely stacked against him. But he had to try, even if it meant his death.

The Master heinously beat the Doctor, whose face was now nearly covered in blood. The last time the Doctor had been beaten this hard was back in the Academy- oddly enough with the Master, though he was called Koschei then. But the Doctor didn't even care anymore. The Master had a point. He had no allies. No one who really could help him. All those that had ever cared about him had either died, left or forgot about him. And his own death would be torturous for the Master. The loneliness and boredom alone would kill him. And that was okay. Maybe this is what was needed. Maybe it was time, as Rassilon had suggested. Oh, the Doctor hated the idea. But now he was utterly powerless against it. He only regretted that he wouldn't die inside the one companion he truly loved: his TARDIS.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" The Master shouted. "Fine then. I won't give you the pleasure of a slow, controllable death, Doctor. Guards!"

Not a moment after he yelled the words, the Zero Room door busted open. The Doctor gulped. The Master laughed a bit, then backed against the wall behind him…the shot rang out…


	4. A Harrowing Decision

A Harrowing Decision

The Doctor reeled. The pain ripped through his body. But it wasn't the pain of the shot from Desmond's weapon. That shot had found its way straight to one of the Masters hearts. The pain the Doctor felt was from his ever failing regeneration. The Master fell to the floor.

"Damn. I really liked this one too." The Master exclaimed.

"Come on, Doctor. We have to leave, the guards have been alerted." Desmond said somberly.

"No, no wait. I must see this. I mean…I must be here for this."

The Master laughed. "That's a gamble at best, Doctor. Even if it works, my regenerations generally go more swimmingly than yours. You'll have to get out of here fast. Because if you don't…" The Master's eyes went cold for a brief moment. His body glowed and warmth overtook the room.

"Doctor, come on. We have to go."

"No!" The Doctor yelled. Crawling towards his briefly lifeless enemy, he reached towards the Masters body. Desmond watched as the glow crept from the Master's body to the Doctor's. Slowly, it overtook him. The Doctor seemed animated by the light, eyes wide, back arched. A tear dripped from his eye as he tilted his head back down. One heart hoped The Master's regeneration failed. The other…well it was his softer heart.

"I'm still regenerating. He's just started his. He'll have an excess of temporal energy I could desperately use." The Doctor managed through the pain of the re-regeneration. Slowly, with his other hand he touched the Master's head. "I've got to complete the circuit or else it'll just change me again!" He gasped out, his voice breaking.

With a certain swiftness and all at once, the Doctor's injuries healed and the Master's face began to change. Taking the place of the face once before them was a gruff, thick face with which the Doctor was all too familiar. Seeing this, the Doctor released his grip on the Master.

"No no no you can't! Not him! He was a good man! You can't take him! Not him!" The Doctor yelled.

"Doctor, come on! We're wasting time!"

"So what! That's all we have is time, anyways!" The Doctor tucked his head between his knees and began to cry. "Not him." He whimpered. Desmond grew impatient. He walked up, grabbed the Doctor's arm and dragged him out of the room. "Doctor I don't know what's going on, but I know you need to get out of here. We need to get out of here!" He forced the Doctor to his feet and started him running, Desmond in the lead.

"How did he get away!" Rani yelled at the Ogron Commander.

"Madame, he overpowered your Judoon sergeant. Either this Desmond was underestimated or those Judoon are dumber than we thought." The Ogron Commander responded.

"Or both. Tell me how he was able to dispatch so many of your mercenaries so easily!" She shouted. "And where is he now!"

"Madame, we don't…." the Ogron Commander started. Before he could finish a Judoon guard ran up to the Rani in her control room.

"Ro wo ro to yo po so do!" He shouted quickly.

"What!" She exclaimed.

"Yo ho wo to mo fo uo."

"Find them!" She barked. "Well, Commander, if the Judoon are dumber than we thought than so are the Ogrons! Not only did you let this human escape but he's gathered the Doctor with him. Where's the Master!"

"Fro tho mo ro go no to."

"Oh for the love of…"

"Don't worry, lady. This one's a lot betta than I've been in the past." The deep, dark, throaty cockney accent related through the loud speaker. "You'll have to give me a bit, though. Gotta pick out a new wardrobe. Can't be causin' 'avoc in a suit, now can I?"

"Master, I presume." The Rani growled.

"Well who else was you thinkin', lady?"

"Your command of the language is now ghastly, Master."

"Yeah, sing it to the wall, lass cause I ain't 'earin it. Anyways, lemme get changed an I'll be wif you in a jif, toots."

"Don't call me that! Master! Master! Damn him, damn that man! Look, we haven't landed yet and there are only so many places on this ship they can go. Find them and kill them!" The Rani shouted at basically anyone within earshot.

"She's got to have a secondary control room. Every TARDIS does." The Doctor yelled as they ran down the hall. "If we get to that control room, we can jettison it and get back to mine!"

"You sure a…type…what is it?" Desmond shouted back.

"One O Six."

"Yeah. You sure a Type 106 has one?"

"No."

The two rounded a corner. "But if it's laid out anything like mine…then…I have no idea where it would be either." The Doctor said as the two quickly caught their breath against a bulked.

"So! Do no to mo vo!"

The Doctor and Desmond looked in the direction of the sound. A small detail of Judoon soldiers obviously did not expect to find them there and looked just as shocked as them.

"No!" The Doctor shouted, throwing up his hands. "Ro mo mo. Io ho lo po do yo mo no to yo."

"You speak that shit?" Desmond asked.

"Yes, Desi. No be quiet."

The Judoon stood there. With faces that didn't allow for much expression, Desmond guessed that they were thinking. Not thinking, really. Deciding. The Doctor knew what Desmond suspected. He was causing great turmoil within these Judoon. They weren't naturally bad creatures. But they had to obey orders. On one hand, killing The Doctor, in their experience, would be a bad thing. On the other hand, they had the things told them by The Rani and The Master. And they had their orders- find The Doctor. Find Desmond. Kill them. But in all their personal experiences, The Doctor was a good man.

Time seemed to slow. The door behind the Judoon regiment slid open and The Rani, head on high and shoulders broad, strode through. The Judoon Sergeant turned and considered her for a moment, long enough. The Doctor grabbed his screwdriver, as he had retrieved it from the safe where it and his psychic paper were stored. As the Judoon turned, his eyes seemed to beg forgiveness from the pair. Desmond's would kill if they were armed. The Doctor's were a combination- forgiveness, anger, despair…depression. He lifted his sonic and did a horrible thing, but one that had to be done. Setting 66. After the noise was made, he grabbed Desmond and forced him down on the ground. The explosion from the Judoon gun, happening as it pulled the trigger, sent The Rani flying backwards. All the soldiers died and, thankfully, it was quick.

"Come on! This way!" The Doctor grabbed Desmond's shirt and forced him up. The next series of turns and dead sprints and panting happened on auto pilot for The Doctor. His head whirred with the horrible thing he had just done. The thing he tried to not do. The thing he promised himself he would not do. Those Judoon were good souls. All Judoon were naturally good hearted souls. Sure they had a penchant for fighting, but up until now it had only been for the greater good, for justice. If they had died for a greater cause, a sacrifice necessary to save millions or even thousands, it would be acceptable. But those good Judoon had died because The Doctor wanted to escape.

"Doc, where are we going!?" Desmond shouted.

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks, grabbed Desmond and slammed him against the wall. "DOES IT MATTER!" He screamed, the saliva emphasizing his point. "Where to! Why! To who! You're moronic brain may not understand this, Desmond, but I refuse violence. I avoid it whenever possible. And I certainly do not kill good beings for my own benefit but THAT'S WHAT I JUST DID!"

"Doctor, those 'good beings' were trying to kill us!"

"NO! I had them stopped! I had them thinking. If only I would've had more time I could have swayed them! But I didn't. I killed them so I could get away. And to what! Everyone has abandoned me. Everyone! Or the ones who haven't have all died! Or, in your case, they're so violent they go against what I stand for. Do you even know why my name _is _The Doctor?" Desmond shook his head. "It's because I chose to help! To stop evil! To fix things that have gone wrong! But despite all of my experience, all of the knowledge I hold, ALL THE GOOD THINGS I HAVE DONE! Do you know how many races, how many life forms I have saved? All of them! And this is how the Universe repays me? It's not fair! It's not fair…"The Doctor released his hold and, to Desmond's surprise, put his head on his shoulder and started crying.

But Desmond wasn't having any of that. He shoved The Doctor away and slapped him hard in the face. "Get a hold of yourself!" The Doctor looked absolutely shocked at Desmond's insensitivity. "How dare you! Is it always me, me, me with you? Did you ever wonder why I went out of my way to help you?"

"Boredom?" The Doctor replied meekly.

"Yes! But not just boredom, Doc. It's a long story, but suffice to say I've fought for a lot of selfish, greedy, even bad men. And I justified it to myself for far too long. But the minute you popped out of your little blue box, Doc, I knew something was different. You can't help it, Doc. If nothing else, when all is said and done, when the Universe is against you, god dammit, you are a good man! And I want to fight for a good man, once in my life, I want to do something truly good. And yeah, I am violent. I didn't take an oath to help not to harm. I took an oath to fight. And like it or not, Doc, you need me. You're on the run from, apparently, an awful lot of really bad people. People I have no qualms with killing. And I'm not here to coddle you, Doc. I know, right now, everything seems really shitty. But if we don't find this alternate control room, I guarantee, it's gonna get a whole lot shittier."

The Doctor looked Desmond right in the eye. In all the Universe right now there was no one he hated more than Desmond. Conversely, in his entire life, he had never met someone he trusted more than Desmond.

"Okay then. See that door 3 feet to your left. That's it."

Desmond looked at The Doctor and seriously considered punching him in the face. "You mean the whole f….you know what, never mind. Let's just go."

The Master strode confidently through the corridor littered with Judoon soliders. On top of his tapered grey baggy pants, he grasped the lapel of his black jacket, adorned with a plastic pin of some gooseberries. A purple silk dress shirt, wrinkled, lay below his poorly tied necktie.

"I thought you said you couldn't case mischief in a suit." The Rani said, still recovering her senses.

"Its not a suit. Not a proper one anyways. It just…felt right." He said, smiling.

"And the bowler hat?"

"All gentlemen where 'ats. Thought calling myself The Master means I need to look like one as well. Anyways, where's our quarry?"

The Rani smiled. "They got away. But now they have a real crime to be charged with." With that she motioned with her head to the dead soldiers.

"No way!" The Master exclaimed with excitement. "Oh this is just brilliant, this is. 'Aven't any idear as to where they may 'a gone, though eh?"

"No I was…seriously Master, your language is disgusting…I was knocked unconscious by the blast."

"Well, 'ats multiple 'omicide _and _attacking a proper officer of the law. Sounds like we got our rallying cry."

"Look, Master, you know as well as I do that The Doctor isn't the only problem in the Universe."

"Don't worry, love. I'll be after them leads in a bit. Gotta cause a bit of mischief first. Blame it on The Doctor. Hmmm, lots of possibilities there."

"You'll go where I tell you to!" The Rani said starting to get up. But before she could finish The Master grabbed her throat with both hands.

"Now, you listen to me love. You remember your place in all of this. I'll do as I like, and if I so feel like it, I may let you in on the fun. But til then, piss off!" He released his hold on her and she gasped for air. "You just remember to be a good little boy and tell me if he pops up any wheres 'e ain't supposed 'a be." He added over his shoulder as he strutted away.

Rassilon was standing tall and mighty before the host of Time Lords and his query. "Before we finish, I feel it is my duty and my honor to properly commend you. You efforts in the War and the Isolation were far above and beyond the call of the Time Lord's. Without Lord's and Lady's such as yourself, the Daleks and The Doctor would have won the war with ease. Above that your scientific contributions in the fields of altered timelines and paradox study is legendary. Many of the younger Time Lords here are familiar with your work, as we proudly instruct your methods at our academy. On behalf of the Time Lords, all Gallifrey and surely all of Space-Time itself, we thank you."

"No, Lord President, I thank you for the guidance you have given not only myself but our vaunted society in this, our time of dearest need."

"Now, I must stress to you the importance of this. The Universe and the balance of time wallow on the precipice of destruction unless you follow my exact orders to the letter. Do you understand?" Rassilon's voice boomed through the council chambers.

"Of course I do, Lord President." The man answered. His flowing grey robes gave him an air of humility and authority, his face denoting his knowledge and concern.

"The Solomon Islands. 1943. Now remember, if this man lives the wars that result decimate the human race…"

"…more like human decency and human morale, Lord President."

"In either case, Mortimus, this man must be stopped."

"I agree. Consider it done."

"I'll consider it done when it is done, Mortimus. Now go."

The Monks robes flowed as he walked down the platform and out of the door.

"Now, council members, none are more displeased with our failure to destroy the terrorist known as The Doctor than myself. However, we must not be quick to judge his captors- the honorable Rani and Master. We must not underestimate The Doctor, or his new companion. As Lord President, I decry that we remove ourselves as mere manipulators and observers. We must use the full brunt of our power on this menace, lest his slip through our hands once more. It is my will that we activate all of our TARDIS fleets…" to this the council chambers filled with the cheers of its members "and that we assign them to one cause- find and destroy The Doctor!" The councilmen and women all rose to their feet in and enormous uproar of applause. All but one.

"So, let me get this straight- you're a Time Lord?" Desmond asked, swinging his left arm in an effort to pop his sore shoulder.

"Yes."

"And what happened with The Master back there happens to all of you?"

"Yes, but only 13 times and only when we're mortally wounded or about to die of old age."

"Right. How many times has he done that?"

"By my count at least 18."

Desmond peered at The Doctor. How can this man not sweat? The middle of the day, the middle of July, the middle of Los Angeles. The two had been walking for at least 12 miles after they crash landed to get back to The Doctor's TARDIS. "And how many times have you regenerated?"

"14."

"So this 13 rule is really more of a suggestion than a rule."

"Well, we have to be given extra regenerations but…well yeah, tall and short of it."

The pair rounded the last corner. There, in all of her beleaguered glory, stood the good ship TARDIS.

"I guess we should be extra careful this time, seeing as how it's been sitting here nearly 6 months."

"Yeah. In fact, I'd better check it out first. You stay back here and cover me if I come running out." The Doctor ordered.

"Sounds fair, Doc." Watching him as he went, Desmond took note of the fact that he was walking completely without fear. There was an obvious haste to his stride, but not out of fear. So Desmond quietly followed. Without looking around The Doctor inserted his key inside the TARDIS and briskly stepped in. A moment later the door slammed and a weird, disharmonious yet not discordant screeching sound emerged and the blue box slowly started to disappear. "Oh, no you don't!" Desmond said as he seized the moment. He sprinted towards the door of the TARDIS and barreled through.

The Doctor glared at him. No anger, no frustration. Just worry drenching those jaded jade eyes. "Well, should've known it wasn't going to be that easy. Close the door will you, we'll catch a draft."


End file.
